Freshman Year & Other Unnatural Disasters Page 20
“Wait, wait, stop. There’s no reason to be upset. I already knew—I mean, I didn’t know about you, but … it’s great. Really great. Seriously.”
“Oh.” She smiles. “Okay.” Then she looks from me to Ben and smiles even bigger. “In that case … I’ll go find JoJo. So … okay. Bye!”
“But Val, what about—,” Ben calls after her. But she’s gone. “Uh, hey, Kelsey. Hey. So, listen, I guess this is weird, or … I mean …”
I can’t believe it. Where has the cocky newspaper guy gone? Ben looks positively nervous. Hm. Did Val tell him that I was talking to JoJo? Does he know that I know he likes me? Ahhh, it’s not so fun when the shoe is on the other foot, eh, Mr. Photographer?
And just like that, I feel … totally, one hundred percent confident.
I say, “Hey, Ben. You want to dance with me?”
He looks relieved. “Yeah, okay. That’d be cool.”
A slow song comes on (miracle!). Ben puts his arms around my waist and I’m actually touching him (!) and I put my head on his shoulder and he smells really nice. I see my friends dancing nearby and they all start making faces and winking at me like lunatics.
Very subtle, guys. Thanks.
“So … did you guys suddenly get a camera budget? For our poor, underfunded newspaper?” I ask, pulling my head back so I can look him in the eye.
He ducks his head, but I can see that he’s blushing. “Well … no. I mean—”
“So you lied to me.”
“I didn’t plan to lie to you … I was just stalling until I found out what you were mad about. And then …”
“And then you found out I was mad at you, so you kept lying.” I give him a stern look. This confidence thing is terrific!
“Seriously, look—the pictures were a total accident. Well, the last one was on purpose, but it was supposed to be a good pic…. Okay. I guess I really do need to pay more attention.”
“Yeah, maybe blow up those thumbnails every once in a while. As someone who has been the victim of repeated, um, photographic assaults—”
“If only more enraged people complained, maybe the Reflector staff wouldn’t be so lax. Maybe you should organize a group in your spare time. You know, when you aren’t busy sabotaging plays and the like.”
And … he’s back. Crinkly eyes, the smile, the whole bit. God, he is SO CUTE!
“Yeah, good idea, thanks,” I tell him. “I’ll get right on that.”
I put my head on his shoulder and try to relax. I mean, this isn’t the time to be grouchy about anything. I’m dancing with Ben! At the prom! This is incredible!
Then one teeny, tiny, horrible thought creeps in. “Wait a second! Stop dancing!” I stop dancing. So does Ben.
“What’s wrong?”
I peer at Ben suspiciously. “You aren’t planning to put any pictures of me from the show in the paper, are you? In my costume, I mean? To be ‘nice’? Or for any other reason?”
Ben grins, puts his hands back on my waist, and pulls me toward him again. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see, Ms. Finkelstein. Either way, I bet you can handle it. Can’t you?”
Yeah, probably, I think. I’ve definitely had plenty of practice in the dealing-with-abject-humiliation department.
I make a scowly face at him. Ben laughs, then gently tips my head onto his shoulder again. We sway to the music. And for the first time in maybe my entire life, my head isn’t filled with a thousand thoughts about how this is unquestionably going to end in disaster. I’m not worried about impressing anyone, or saying the right thing, or looking a certain way, or anything. Actually, at the moment, I feel pretty psyched about just being plain old Kelsey Finkelstein.
It is really, really great.
I think I’d better confiscate that camera, though. Just to be on the safe side.
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